


The Detention

by Seakays



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Graphic Descriptions of Torture, Lots of bad words, Not A Happy Ending, unpleasant thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seakays/pseuds/Seakays
Summary: When Cho Chang gets assigned a month of detention with Vincent Crabbe, is the beautiful Ravenclaw enough to melt the heart of a Slytherin who enjoys torture just a little bit too much?
Relationships: Vincent Crabbe/Cho Chang
Comments: 42
Kudos: 27
Collections: Sing Me a Rare: UK Invasion!





	The Detention

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sing Me a Rare UK Invasion. 
> 
> Incredibly grateful to my amazing alpha and beta who shall remain nameless until the end of the competition.
> 
> Song/Artist - Jealous Guy/Roxy Music 
> 
> Disclaimer - I do not own anything relative to JK Rowling or the music of Roxy Music. Both were used as inspiration for this story and I do not own characters.

He hated it when they cried.

Tears made everything murky and uncertain, like swimming through the Black Lake in early spring when the sediment from the mermaids spawning clouded the water. Their sobs confused him and made him less proud. Less overjoyed that for the first time in his miserable life he was the best at something. 

When he wielded his wand, and picked just the perfect curse to make them scream, or plead or beg, he was no longer just Crabbe, the dim lackey of Draco Malfoy, but Vincent, dark curse expert. 

The Carrows said he was a natural, born to cast dark curses and spells. Amycus, in particular, praised him endlessly for the creativity of his spells, and the way he was able to choose just the right one to make his victims moan or confess their deepest, most personal secrets. 

For Seamus Finnigan, it was a strong  _ Inguiculi  _ curse that made his fingernails roll back slowly upon themselves, and he found out that Harry Potter had crushed Ginny Weasley’s heart before leaving, making the pathetic fool feel he had a chance with the blood traitor.

Lavender Brown was offering him all kinds of carnal delights within seconds of his use of the archaic  _ Caninus  _ curse that played to her phobia of dogs. As if he would ever stick his prick into any hole where Weasley had been? Plus, Crabbe hated blondes. 

The most satisfying detention had to be Cormac McLaggen. A well placed  _ Pediculus  _ charm enticed hundreds of lice to writhe in all his body hair and he was soon confessing every vile and deviant thing he wanted to do with girls like Granger, or Bones, or Chang. 

As he watched the handsome, popular Gryffindor writhe on the ground shrieking about bugs and spewing filth, Vincent felt nothing but revulsion for his fantasies about a disgusting Mudblood like Granger or a half-blood like Bones. But he had to agree, Chang was an altogether different prospect. 

Chang was beautiful, she was a pureblood, and like almost every male at Hogwarts, he had wanked to fantasies of her deep in the recesses of his dormitory. Particularly vivid was the one where he wrapped his prick in her long dark hair and exploded from her nape to her scalp. Vincent had watched with an unsettling combination of envy and jealousy as Chang paraded around with Diggory, Potter, and unbelievably that manky berk, Corner.

Vincent couldn’t believe his luck when Chang got caught comforting some snivelling first year by Alecto, landing her in detention for thirty-one days. To have her to play with every night for an entire month sent him scurrying to the Hogwarts library for the first time in seven years. After all, he needed to find something special for the ravishing Ravenclaw. 

Vincent was, by nature, an impatient man. He vastly preferred to incapacitate his victims as efficiently as possible. The less time it took to break down whatever meagre bits of bravery and bravado they had, the more he could enjoy their screams. 

Which was why Chang’s first night in detention was so bitterly disappointing. There were no screams or pleas for leniency, just bloodshot eyes full of tears, and a face covered in snot. The second night was even worse as she broke into great heaving sobs so violent that she wretched all over herself, creating a smell so foul that he sent her back to her dormitory two hours before detention was over. 

Torturing Chang for the next few days was more of the same, nothing but tears and sick and rancid breath. Vincent was certain she wasn’t even bathing anymore her body odour was so foul. 

On the sixth night, however, just as he was set to try a slight variation on a punching curse he had used before, she finally spoke. 

“You know, I always thought you were a fair Beater.” Her voice was rough from crying, and she had to spit out a wad of congealed blood, but it was enough for Vincent to preen under her praise. 

“Knocked Potter off his perch a few times, I did. Best moments of my life.” Crabbe narrowed his eyes at Cho. “Didn’t ever quite manage to unseat you though, did I, Duchess?” 

Cho suppressed a wet cough before answering, her smile showing bloody teeth, “Everyone knew I was better than Potter, that show off.”

Vincent scoffed, “You liked him well enough to parade these hallowed fucking halls with him.”

“He was useful, told me sweet nothings about Gryffindor tactics, and said that I was beautiful.” Cho looked up at Vincent. “He certainly wouldn’t find me beautiful now.”

The wistfulness in her tone brought Vincent up short.  _ How could she not see how beautiful she was all broken?  _

More than slightly confused by her comment, he stumbled out a lukewarm denial as to how she was still prettier than half the bints at Hogwarts. Upset at himself for stammering like a bloody first year, he ordered her to leave only two and a half hours into her five-hour detention. 

The next two nights they spoke in more depth about Quidditch, and he found her tattletales about her Ravenclaw teammates amusing and intriguing fodder for future detentions.  _ Who knew that parts of Chang’s soul were as twisted as his? _

By the end of the second week, Vincent found that he would barely spend any time on torture, instead he was more intrigued by her voice and the little pieces of herself she shared. He found out she loved the colour violet, a muggle author named JD Robb, and she hated earthworms. She spent hours talking, and as eager as any new student, Vincent learned all he could on the subject of Cho Chang.

As she stopped calling him Crabbe, and slipped into Vincent, Vin, and one terribly confusing time, Vinnie, he shared with her his love of pasta with white sauce, the colour blue, and the fact that he hated his purebred mother, who called him fatty fatty two by four. 

When Cho had declared him burly, not fat, he could barely get rid of her fast enough as he settled himself on the dungeon floor, a meaty hand on his cock, and her image on repeat.

The start of week three brought yet another surprise. Cho arrived smelling of something wonderfully floral and forbidden, and he noticed that her hair was brushed and clean, and so dark and shiny he swore to Merlin himself that he could see his reflection. 

“Vincent, I hate that you only get to see me so ugly and awful. Do you think we could talk first before you use your wand?” Cho made her request so softly he had to lean closer than he ever had before to hear her. As he did, Cho stood, bringing her face to face with him for the first time ever.

Struggling for composure as her scent nearly overwhelmed him, he dared to touch her without anger or the intention to hurt. Pushing gently on her shoulder― _ that was somehow bare from a sweater slipped off her shoulder _ ― _ when did that happen?,  _ Vincent realized how rough and calloused her skin looked. 

Surprised by how angry that made him feel, he sat her in the only other chair in the room, mumbling the best apology he could think of. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to make you cry. You are the prettiest girl I have ever seen... ever.”

And then she smiled, and he felt like a fucking superhero, and he knew that he would be anything, give everything just to make her smile again. 

“You’re just too sweet, Vinnie. It’s nice to have someone to talk to about things, you know, normal things like Quidditch and scones and such.” She trailed off, suddenly shy, and Vincent felt a well of emotion, a burst of intent so overpowering that words poured out of him. Simple yet profound. Cliched but heavy with meaning. Words like:

_ Pretty _

_ Smart _

_ Kind  _

_ Safe _

Because he would keep her safe… from Snape, from the Carrows, from himself.

They talked long into the night, and when Cho so sweetly asked if he could excuse her from detention for just one night, he knew he would deny her nothing. 

He missed her the next night, and wondered if she might be missing him, but Zacharias Smith had spat in Alecto’s face and was sentenced to detention with Vincent that night. Smith’s muffled screams and pathetic begging soothed his insecure soul. Waiting for Smith to catch his breath after a particularly harsh skin peeling hex, Vincent felt the time was right to get more information about his little Duchess.

As weak and pitiful as Smith was, he offered up information about Chang on a silver platter. How she lost her virginity to Diggory in the fourth floor reserve potions closet. How she gave the Chosen One his first handjob, and that he came in an embarrassingly short time. How Michael Corner was a crier during sex, and one time moaned  _ Ginny  _ leading to a horrible fight heard throughout Ravenclaw tower. 

As eager as Vincent had been to hear this salacious gossip, the longer Smith went on, the more uncomfortably aroused he became. Jealousy sparked quick and hot in his stomach, and unwilling to hear anything more, he cast  _ Silencio  _ on his captive for the rest of the night, denying himself the joy of his screams. 

When Cho returned the next night, Vincent tried to remain cool and detached, not wanting to be seen as just some jealous guy, but the gentle tick tick of her hair pony, the subtle fall of her dress and the itch to be closer burned uncontrollably in his chest. 

“I like your hair like that… in that horse tail thing,” he stumbled to open the conversation. Cho didn’t seem to notice and sent him a blinding smile, and they easily fell back into the pattern of the last few days. 

Somewhere around the third hour, Vincent plucked up every vestige of courage he had, and reached out to caress the bare knee that had been exposed by the cut of her dress. Expecting her to flinch or pull away, he was shocked when she leaned her knee into his touch. So great was his desire to touch more, he didn’t concentrate fully on what she was saying. 

“...... date…. Hogsmeade…. dinner.” 

Confused and somewhat angry to have his focus taken from the slip of flesh he was touching, he barked out a response. “What is it that you want, girl?” 

The only hint Cho was taken aback by his tone was a slight widening of her eyes. She simply smiled and started again.

“ Oh it was just something stupid I was thinking of… you and me… on a date. Oh you must think I am so forward. Not a proper pureblood… oh I am so silly, it’s just I feel safe with you, Vinnie.” 

There had been few moments in Vincent Crabbe’s life where he felt worthwhile, like he mattered, like he had something good to offer beyond brute strength and a propensity towards dark spells. But as Cho’s words washed over him, he knew that this spot in time was worth every miserable second he had suffered through in his eighteen years. 

They talked for an hour more, and after promising to excuse her from the final six days of detention, they made plans to meet on the evening of May 3rd―a week hence―with Cho quietly suggesting stops at Quality Quidditch Supplies and Upstart, a new witch’s clothing shop that had just opened in the protected section of Diagon Alley. 

As she left at the end of the night, without marks or scars, Cho slipped out the door to the dungeon, her softspoken words ringing in his ears. 

“You could have been a good man, Vincent Crabbe. It’s there, inside you.”

The continued search for members of Dumbledore’s army kept Vincent incredibly busy, scouring every inch of the castle looking for the students who only lived to annoy. While he hadn’t seen Cho since her last day in detention, she was most definitely on his mind. Most of his imaginings were desperately carnal, yet there were others that spoke of rings and permanence, of power and of love. As sleep finally claimed him, on that last day of April, he felt his heart―the one that never seemed to truly beat properly in his chest―begin to settle into a strong and powerful rhythm, erasing all the hurt that had come before. 

The morning of May 2nd dawned bright and cold, and an exhausted Crabbe dragged himself across the courtyard eager to grab a few hours rest after a night of patrols. As he turned the last corner towards the Slytherin staircases, he was brought up short by the sight in front of him.

Zacharias Smith with his arms wrapped around Cho. His Cho. 

Shocked into silence, he slowed his steps as he heard Cho laugh, and Smith’s booming voice. 

“How did you ever stand it, Cho? Sucking up to that fat cretin? Was he even able to string a sentence together in between stuffing his gob?”

Cho shrugged. “At first I just wanted to repel the idiot―forced myself to vomit, rubbed garlic under my arms right before detention. Never sure if my smell disgusted him or turned him on.”

Smith laughed, “ You smelled like food; he was probably salivating. How did you stop him hurting you? I swear the arse got himself a chubby while he was cursing the hell out of me.Poor little jealous boy, all angry and outraged by the tales I told him.” 

Cho smiled a little sadly, “Smart men are easy enough to manipulate, so with a mental midget like Crabbe it was like taking candy from the proverbial baby. Honestly It was pathetic how simple it was. He’s really a lonely and odd little―” 

Vincent suddenly stepped into their view, wand pointed straight at Smith’s face. Plastering a smile on her face, Cho tried to placate him. “Vincent… Vinnie, it’s not what it looks like, Smith and I… we’re just joking around.”

Vincent swore he could feel the shards of his heart break, sending pointy little pieces straight into his bloodstream and carrying the nicks and pricks everywhere on his body. The pain was overwhelming, his wand hand shook, and he screamed at Cho, “Don’t fucking lie to me.” 

And for a split second, he thought he saw something like regret pass over her face, but then her eyes hardened and she spewed weeks of contained vitriol at him. Words pounded against him, bruising with their intent, and cutting with their accuracy.

_ Pathetic _

_ Repulsive _

_ Ignorant  _

_ Useless _

He had no defense, and Cho had no mercy. Pain sapping him of all strength, Vincent lowered his wand and with one last scathing glare, Cho Chang grabbed her boyfriend and walked out of his life. 

And so he sat, alone, slouched down beside a faded baroque painting of some kind of wood nymph, letting Cho’s words wash over him. The shards of his heart began to harden to stone, and a dull anger set in to consume him. By the time Goyle and Malfoy ran past him yelling about Potter and the Room Of Requirement, Vincent Crabbe was a man filled with vengeance. 

He would show Cho Chang and everyone else that he was a great wizard. He was a fucking force to be reckoned with. He would raze this godforsaken school to its Mudblood loving foundations. 

And so he reached back with everything he had, and screamed into the void.

“ _ Like it hot, scum!” _

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
